Chapter 13

Catty watched as Far slid the small blade along the half carved hunk of wood.

The soldier sat in an unadorned chair away from the room's one table, eyes focused on his work. His strong hands made the smallest of movements, flecks of wood falling away from the emerging piece. The Elf Queen was fascinated. That such power, such strength, could be controlled, used with such precision, to create something so exquisite. There was nothing her Far could not do.

She looked to the room's one table. Dinner had been cleared away, dishes foisted off on the humans to be cleaned. In their place, six finished, if unpainted, wooden pieces. Small works of art, beyond anything her magic could create. Rising from the cushioned chair against the wall, she walked over, hand longing to touch them. Far's amused voice flowed around her.

"I don't think it's a full set yet, Your Highness."

No. It was far from it. A Dragon set, a proper Dragon set, needed forty-two pieces for each of the players, arranged on a three level board. The board she had grown up with had been made of crystal, each of the flat rectangular levels divided into clear and ruby red squares. The pieces had been made of silver and gold, emerald eyes set into each of the two dragons dominating the top board. Catty's hand gently touched one of the carved Oliphants. She had played the game many times, never noticing, or caring, about the pieces she and her sister had moved about the board. They were no different from any other part of their world. This ... this, she had seen made. Had seen the hands of Far bring it out of discarded wood, like a child pulled from a dead mother's womb. She heard a sigh come from herself.

"The humans have a similar game. I saw some of the soldiers playing it."

"I saw it too," Far said. She turned to look at him. He had stopped his work, eyes on her. "One of the sets was finely carved, but the other was plain, the pieces smooth, unadorned. Almost as if worn from use."

"It only had one board," Catty said, frowning. "A child's game."

"It's not the game, but how it's played. I liked the unadorned pieces. I may try a set like that, after I finish yours." He lifted the carving again, knife gently touching the Unicorn's head.

There was a knock on the door. It opened almost immediately, both Det and Wan entering, heads bowing slightly towards Catty. She nodded back, glad to see her men, yet annoyed at having her private time with Far end. Det must have sensed her mood, the Elf's face becoming almost apologetic as he moved past her towards the fire. In his arms were logs, freshly split. She watched as both Elves placed their burden in a wooden box beside the hearth.

The door to the hallway stayed open. Catty was about to rebuke them when Tae entered, followed by the dark skinned human. Catty straightened.

"I trust everything is well with you this evening?" Shanna asked, eyes taking in the room. Catty could see her eyes fall on the Dragon pieces. She had a foolish desire to hide the carvings from Human eyes. Instead, she smiled.

"Well enough. The meal was ... better."

There was a snort from the human.

"I have no problem with you cooking in here. You'll have to make do with what we have, naturally. Rations for all will be tight this winter."

"We will manage." She shot a smile at Tae. The Elf was a good cook. Not as good as Biv, but ... well, Tae had made it out of Saribit alive.

"Good. I suspect you will be here for awhile, so we will make the best of it." She paused, eyes passing over the four male Elves. "How is your night vision?"

"In the dark?" Catty frowned. "Depends on the moonlight. Why?"

"Nothing," Shanna said, humor in her voice. "I keep forgetting this is reality."

Shanna left the Elven common room laughing at herself. Names had meaning, and calling these people "elves" was still screwing up her perception of them. What next, dwarfs who were as tall as humans? She paused at the top of the stairway, thinking. Hadn't there been a fantasy series like that, where the dwarfs had just been a BIT shorter than humans, living underground? Possibly. God knew she had read enough books, all trying to do something a little different. Or not trying, as the case might be.

Laughter came from down below. Shanna had not spent much time with her men that day, something she felt guilty about. Tomorrow she'd order an excursion into the surrounding woods, do some drills. That would be fun.

A vision appeared of Helmut on the stone floor, blood pooling by one arm.

This was not supposed to be fun.

Most of her men were in the common room, taking up the part of the first floor not needed for the mess hall and kitchen. A fire roared in two fireplaces, the one at the end sharing a chimney with the hearth in the Elves' room. Lewy had a Koziol out, not so much playing the bagpipe like instrument as conversing with it, pausing to consider what it had said before squeezing the bag again to hear more of its opinion. Two games of cards were ongoing, as well as small groups of men just conversing. Some women, too, those done with kitchen work. They sat together or paired with their man, heads together, hands casually touching each other.

Shanna felt a small pang at the stupidity of Piotr.

Bogdi was in the far corner, the others seeming to leave a shell of privacy around him. Adanya sat in his lap, a bare arm around his shoulders as he held her Frog-like form. Shanna felt she should go over, greet the Kikker Chief's daughter, but from their expression this was not the time. She actually felt her cheeks heat as Adanya whispered something into the Pole's ear, a greenish brown hand playing with the black hairs on his arm. Shanna turned away.

"Lady Shanna!"

The cry came from one of the card games. Grinning, she walked over, looking over the heads of those on the nearest bench at the current play.

"Bronek start cheating yet?"

"They are not drunk enough yet for that," the soldier laughed, the others joining in. "Would you care to join us?"

"What's the game?"

"Poker."

She grinned. Her contribution to Polish culture had been a great success. Pushing apart the shoulders of two of the men before her, she laughed.

"Sounds good! Now, make room for your betters!"

It was the longest James had yet talked to any woman here besides Ewa.

They sat in a small drawing room, lamps illuminating the dark paneling. James relaxed on an incredibly comfy couch, his body almost sinking into the cushions. Lusia sat in a chair across from him. Her mother and sister had gone back to their rooms, an observation that the young Gizelda was falling asleep taken by Lady Jasinski as the hint it was. She had seemed more than eager to leave her older daughter alone with the King and his commoner companion.

Lusia had just been shocked.

James watched as Ewa left the room, her motherly instincts telling her it was time to check on Marik. He hoped she'd bring the babe back with her. Continued to let the three of them...

"I know what you're doing, Your Grace."

Lusia's tone was tired, perhaps a bit upset. He looked at her, surprised. She sat, knees together, as any proper lady would, body leaning forward slightly in the well cushioned chair. The swell of her breasts were more than apparent. He gave her his full attention, shrugging slightly.

"I have never claimed to be subtle. What do you suspect?"

"You marry me. Ewa gives birth to your heirs. I live my life without a real husband."

"Close enough."

"I don't like it."

"Then I won't do it." He raised an eyebrow at her surprised reaction. "What? You think I'm the type to force you?"

"You're the King."

"Which has nothing to do with what I'm willing to do with that power, if it is power." His gaze returned to the empty doorway. "I don't want to hurt her. I'm going to, regardless of what I do, but I don't want to."

"She is nice," Lusia said, voice softening. He nodded.

"As are you. You're also intelligent. You two seem to at least get along, for now. If I have to pick someone, and it can't be her, that's what I'm at least shooting for."

"Marry her."

"This is not quite a Constitutional Monarchy, with firm restraints on the King, but I have definite limits and am far from secure. They want one of the Noble families tied to me. Doesn't matter which. Yours is on the outer edge, socially, but qualifies. Ewa doesn't. They're not fanatical enough about bloodlines to really care who the mother of the next King is, so long as I'm the Father." James put a hand to his forehead. "At least I hope."

"And if I suddenly start bleeding after our wedding night?"

"Then what's done is done, and we do what we have to. I'm making this up as I go along, so don't expect a coherent plan."

She leaned forward, hands clenched.

"What is in it for me?"

"What do you want?"

She was silent, eyes focused on his. He shrugged again.

"I asked Shanna that question. Her answer was her own soldiers, her own fort. I asked Ewa. It was to stay with me, to help with my meals, to take care of me. What would you want, that I could provide?"